


How to Make a Monster

by EnRaa



Category: Transformers: Beast Wars
Genre: Alternate Universe, Maximal Tarantulas, Multi, Slash
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-09-20
Updated: 2016-09-06
Packaged: 2018-04-22 13:49:22
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 4,042
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4837568
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EnRaa/pseuds/EnRaa
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Eight solar-cycles ago, Tarantulas was a cranky, misanthropic Maximal scientist who despised his entire existence. Then he was assigned to analyze a vial of unknown liquid taken off of a captured Predacon. </p><p>Now, he’s lying in bed next to a mech he hardly knows, reading a data pad detailing results of experiments he doesn’t recall ever doing, and it all leads up to the fact that he’s no longer the mech he used to be.</p><p>He’s changing. Everything about him is changing, and there’s nothing he can do about it except sit back and try to enjoy the ride.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. A Little Glass Vial

**Author's Note:**

> An AU back story for Tarantulas. Takes place before Theft of the Golden Disc. 
> 
> Tags will be updated as the story progresses.

_“A Rogue Predacon was captured and executed by Maximal Command today. The Predacon, Hellshot, was in transit with what authorities speculate to be chemical warfare when a young scientist identified the mech as a threat and notified the Council. The Security Force dispatched agents immediately, and after a brief scuffle, Hellshot was taken into custody.”_

“Seems like the streets are getting more and more dangerous every day…”

“Hn, that’s why yer in here doing yer nerd thing, and they’re out there takin’ on the Preds.”

Tarantulas shrugged, turning away from the TV screen to face the delivery mech. “I suppose that’s one way of looking at it.” The scientist sighed, crossing his arms over his chest plate. “What do you have for me to analyze today?” He asked dully.

The larger mech shrugged. “I dunno, some purple slop from that capture on the news. Probably a CNA sample to catalogue or somethin’.” He grunted, handing over a container.

Nodding, the purple mech took the container and opened it. He reached in and picked up the sample tube inside, filled with a bright purple liquid that almost seemed to glow. He set it down carefully into a tube rack and turned back to the delivery mech.

“Here, I need yer signature fer the drop-off, nerd-bot.” The mech thrust a data pad and stylus towards Tarantulas.

The scientist scowled and took the data pad, signing quickly. As he reached up to hand it back to the big brute, he noticed the large mech poking about his lab. “Is that everything?” He grit out. He hated nosy visitors.

The edge in his voice caused the mech to jump a bit, dropping the vial he was holding. It shattered on the floor, spilling the liquid everywhere. “Ah slag! What is this goop?!” The mech panicked, hopping from one pede to another as he danced away from the liquid.

Tarantulas sighed and opened the cabinet next to him, retrieving some solvent and a rag. “Nothing you need to worry about. Just take your data pad and get out before you wreck my lab.” The scientist grumbled.

Scoffing, the delivery mech stepped over the mess and grabbed his data pad, walking towards the door. “If that slag is gonna be sittin’ out in the open, it should be put in somethin’ a little stronger, nerd-bot.” He griped.

“Leave. Please.” The purple mech snapped as he bent down to clean up the smashed vial and spilled liquid.

“Fine, geez…”

The sound of the door opening and closing was like a tangible wave of relief over Tarantulas’ tensed frame. With an annoyed sigh, he resigned himself to the task of cleaning, listening to the remainder of the news broadcast.

-

Just looking at the liquid told Tarantulas it wasn’t CNA. It didn’t look to be Cybertronian… Or at least not from any normal Cybertronian. Perhaps something organic.

Organic… That opened the door to countless possibilities of what the liquid was, and even then that was assuming it was of natural origin and that it wasn’t created. If it was created…

It could be anything.

The possibilities were endless, and Tarantulas knew it would take dozens of tests to determine exactly what the tube contained. He glared down at the data pad detailing his assignment, inwardly cursing it. He’d have to put all of his other projects on hold just to get this one taken care of.

“’Identify the substance’… Pheh, they make it sound so easy…” The scientist grumbled. His own lab only contained half of the equipment he’d need to analyze the sample, so he’d have to schedule a couple of mega-cycles in the industrial lab at the facility to fully test it.

Great, he _loved_ that building…

Making a reminder to schedule the lab time, Tarantulas walked over to his console and began sifting through his contacts. He knew he’d probably want a second opinion on the sample, if nothing else to get a better idea of where to begin his testing. Sure, he could consult one of the other facility scientists, but he could hardly stand working in that building let alone actually interacting with the other workers.

He really couldn’t bring himself to seek out their knowledge.

Maybe when he was desperate.

So he’d call an acquaintance instead. He found the correct comm frequency and began pinging the other bot.

 _“What do you want, nerd-bot?”_ A familiar voice grouched from the other end. _“This’d better be good. I’m busy.”_ The engineer was as pleased as usual to hear from him, the purple mech noted.

She wouldn’t be singing that tune for very long.

“I’ve got the sample from the Predacon capture today.” Tarantulas stated simply. “I would like your opinion on the matter. Where do you want to meet?”

A long pause.

_“…Are you serious?”_

The purple mech scoffed. “Have you ever known me to give you false information?” He growled. “I’m giving you the opportunity to analyze what could potentially be a weapon of mass destruction, taken off of a Predacon terrorist and sitting in my lab.” After years spent working together, he knew how to bait her. “I really could’ve just saved the sample for myself... Now where do you want to meet?”

He knew he would be just as easily lured if the situation had been reversed. This was a fine opportunity.

_“Meet me at the energon cafe in two mega-cycles. Don’t be late. We’ll go to your lab from there.”_

Then the line was dead.

Tarantulas closed the line and logged off of his console with an almost inaudible chuckle. It would take a lot out of him to go socializing, but it would be worth it for the second opinion.

 

**TBC**


	2. Pretty Awkward, Handsome

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tarantulas and Blackarachnia meet up to talk about the vial.

Tarantulas arrived at the café long before Blackarachnia had. He ordered a drink, something bitter he remembered pretty well living on when he was younger, and took a seat in a booth near the corner of the café, where prying eyes wouldn’t bother him.

He really didn’t need nosey Maximals hounding him over the contents of the vial.

A few cycles passed and Tarantulas began to feel irritated. The engineer was usually quite punctual, though for whatever reason she was running late.

It irked Tarantulas, as _she_ had specifically ordered _him_ not to be late, but here she was taking her good old time.

He sipped at his energon, taking the vial from his subspace and studying it. The liquid inside wasn’t very thick, and it didn’t have any clouding to it. It was clear and a vibrant purple.

Looking up to see if the femme was even in the café yet, Tarantulas groaned when he saw her hanging off some large mech, peppering his faceplate with kisses.

If Blackarachnia thought for one moment he was having this meeting with one of her processor-less hookups sitting right in the middle, asking sparkling-level questions while he tried to get any sort opinion out of her, she was _dead_ wrong.

Irritated, the scientist swished the liquid around inside the vial, not much caring if it turned out to be some explosive chemical warfare. It would save him the trouble of having to deal with the brute if she brought him in…

The liquid turned out not to be explosive, much to Tarantulas’ disappointment. He could do for a little excitement in his life.

“What in Primus’ name do you think you’re doing, nerd-bot?!”

The vial was snatched from his servo and Blackarachnia glowered down at him. “What if that had been explosive?!” She scolded, setting it down on the table gently. “You would have blown us all to scrap!”

Tarantulas sighed. “Sadly, it didn’t.” He took note that her mech friend wasn’t with her and inwardly sighed in relief. “I take it lover-bot didn’t want to stay for the tough, educated talk?”

“Oh go suck a spike, Tarantulas. He has work. And for your information, although he may not be a scientist, Silverbolt is a very accomplished mech!” The engineer growled defensively, taking a seat across from her colleague, taking a sip from the drink she’d ordered on the way in.

The purple mech cocked a visor ridge. “And what is it that he accomplished? Is he able to get ready in the morning cycles without you?” Tarantulas mocked.

“Oh you’re just jealous because you can’t get a femme to even look at you!” Blackarachnia hissed, crossing her arms across her chest plate.

Every one of their meet ups went like this.

“Not everyone has time for frivolous hookups, Blackarachnia. Some of us like to be productive.” The purple mech explained, drumming his fingers on the metal surface of the table in irritation.

“Nice excuse. You just haven’t ‘faced in so long that you’ve gone sour. Then again, knowing you, you wouldn’t even know how to ‘face.” Blackarachnia giggled, noting the glare she received in return.

“Can we kindly turn this conversation back to what it was meant to be about, femme?” Tarantulas nudged the vial back into her servos, but Blackarachnia wasn’t ready to get down to business just yet.

“Not yet, nerd-bot. How’s work?” She asked, now curious instead of hostile. She’d left that facility after they’d finished interning , but she still remembered how hateful it was there.

Tarantulas scoffed. “How do you think it is? Same as when you were working there.” He spat distastefully.

“Sucks for you. I’m-“

“At our rival facility. I know. Probably making all kinds of fun toys for them.”

“That’s where I met Silverbolt. He’s the head of security for the facility.” She explained, a smile forming on her lips at the memory.

Finishing off his drink, Tarantulas plucked the vial from her servos. “Look Blackarachnia, I didn’t come here for socializing. You know me better than that. If you’re not going to examine this then we might as well cut this whole thing short and you can get back to your little lover-bot and I’ll get back to my work.”

“Jeez, you always get so cranky when I mention meeting new mechs. Jealous or something?” She asked playfully, taking the vial back from the purple mech.

“That’s ridiculous and you know it.” As if Tarantulas was attracted to her. She was a very beautiful femme, but for how much she tried his patience on a good day he couldn’t stand to be with her more than once a deca-cycle.

“Mmmm-hmmmm.” She teased, looking the vial over. “Have you done ANY tests yet?”

“Not yet. My own lab is…ill-equipped. I need to get it to the facility’s.”

“Gotcha. Looks like energon...” She observed keenly after a few cycles.

“Why would some Predacon be running about the city, causing a ruckus with a vial of purple energon?” Tarantulas scoffed.

“Not so weird when you consider that it might be a virus within the energon, which is why it’s purple. Alternatively, it might just be fashioned to look like energon and be an airborne killer.” Blackarachnia explained.

She was onto something. At least the visit was finally becoming productive.

“Either way, nerd-bot, I wouldn’t open this vial unless you have it completely contained. I’d hate to see you get slagged over a little vial of energon.” The femme joked.

“Noted.

-

The rest of the meeting went much the same way, banter shot back and forth as they decided the best course of action for the study.

Prince Silverbolt came calling though, so the trip back to his lab was cancelled.

So Tarantulas headed back to his apartment, making a little list as he sped home of what he wanted to look into when he got the vial to the facility in the morning cycle.

He arrived at his apartment complex, his steps a little quick as he made his way up the stairs so he could get back to work.

Upon opening the door, however, all thoughts of that list quickly left his processor.

His apartment was a wreck, completely uprooted and all of his belongings either thrown to the floor or broken. Shelves had been tipped over, his file drives were all spilled out together onto the floor like someone had gone through them…

Tarantulas sprinted to his lab, finding the usually locked door busted open and barely attached to its frame anymore. Cringing, he looked inside to see nearly all of his projects dismantled or broken, his equipment wrenched open as if someone were checking to see if something was being tested in them…

Then it hit him.

The vial.

Someone was looking for the vial. Predacons no doubt, but someone specifically knew who had it and where he lived…

Sighing, Tarantulas surveyed the remnants of his lab. It would take him forever to repair the damages, and most of his projects would need to be completely redone.

Off all the places it had to be _his lab_ they attacked.

His haven…

He decided it would be a better move to keep the vial in the facility from now on. He would deal with going down to the security office and trying to uncover whatever attacked his home later, but for now he had an apartment and lab to clean up…

 

**TBC**


	3. Lights Out

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It seems the Maximals aren't the only ones interested in that vial...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It took me so long to get this up and I am so sorry. Work has been crazy lately and hasn't given me much time to do anything. It's a little short but it gets the story back on track.

It had taken him all night to clean up the mess of his apartment, so needless to say recharge didn’t happen.

This led Tarantulas to a day of several bitter energon drinks from the café to keep him from going into forced recharge while he tested the liquid. He hadn’t felt this drug down since his interning days when he had many night cycles of no recharge in a row due to projects and reports…

He never once missed those days.

Finishing the last of his energon, he recorded the results of his latest test, which confirmed Blackarachnia’s theory of it being energon.

Interesting. That opened up many possibilities of what the liquid was intended for. A virus was most likely, so he jotted that first on his data pad.

Just as the scientist really began to get into the other possibilities of the liquid, his apartment went completely black.

Tarantulas KNEW he paid his bills on time every month, so this power outage took him completely by surprise. It also incited a lot of anger, since there were no reports of maintenance being done in this sector. How was he supposed to work like this?

With a heavy sigh, Tarantulas got up from his console and headed for the door, fully intent of finding out just what caused this outage. If it couldn’t be fixed right away, he could at least make sure the landlord was aware that he wasn’t happy about it.

At all.

Opening the door to leave, Tarantulas stopped short as a tall mech stood right in his way. He was just outside his door frame, seemingly unsurprised that Tarantulas had opened the door before he could even knock.

“Let me guess, this is about the outage?” Tarantulas drawled. At least this saved him a trip.

“Something like that…” The heavily accented mech casually replied, right before cocking an arm back and leveling Tarantulas right there in the doorway.

Falling to the floor with a less than dignified squawk of pain, Tarantulas rubbed at his jaw plating, noting the slight dent. Looking up at his attacker, Tarantulas growled. “What the slag was that for?” He hissed as he got to his pedes.

“Insurance, but it seems I might have to be a little rougher than expected.” The black and grey mech cocked his helm in what almost seemed like amusement before rushing Tarantulas once more, slamming the mech to the floor and keeping one pede firmly on his chest plate.

“Where is the vial, Tarantulas?” The mech demanded, taking a pistol from his subspace and aiming it directly at the scientist’s helm.

Taken aback, Tarantulas stared with wide optics at the mech above him for a moment. “How do you know my name?” He asked with obvious suspicion.

“Answer the question, scientist! Where is the vial?!” The mech jammed the barrel of the pistol against Tarantulas’ visor, red optics narrowing dangerously.

Glaring up at his attacker, Tarantulas felt a surge of challenge. “What’s so special about it that I should tell you?” He tried, shuffling in an attempt to get the pistol out of his face. “From what I gathered in my research, there was nothing special about it-“

The result of his antagonizing was a shot being fired into his forearm, burning through the metal quickly and splattering energon between them. Tarantulas cried out in pain, shifting to cradle his injured arm.

“I grow tired of your games, scientist. Where is the vial.” It was not a question this time, and Tarantulas wasn’t about to try the mech’s patience this time.

“In my lab…back room.” He hissed, shakily getting back to his pedes as the mech stepped off of him to go search for the vial. The scientist watched his attacker stalk into his lab, and he felt a strong surge of territorial anger wash through him.

That was his lab. The mech had no right to be in it.

Disconnecting a few wires in his arm, Tarantulas felt the appendage go numb, enough for him to ignore the injury and take off after the intruder.

The mech was just approaching his console when Tarantulas tackled him, sending them both crashing to the floor. The impact had several of the chemicals and substances tarantulas had been working with clatter to the floor, many breaking on impact.

The loss of materials, _expensive_ materials, only fueled his anger as he wrestled the mech onto his back, pinning him unsteadily.

The scuffle went on for many cycles, the two of them rolling around the lab floor like young mech animals. The black and grey mech eventually wrestled Tarantulas onto his back, slamming the mech’s helm back into a filing cabinet in an attempt to incapacitate the scientist.

The sudden jerking of the cabinet caused many more bottles and vials to fall from the scientist’s console, one of which being the energon vial he’d been working on. It rolled from the console and fell onto Tarantulas’ chest plate, shattering instantly.

The attacker seemed to know what the substance was right away just by looking at it, watching with horror as it ran down Tarantulas’ chest plate and into his armor seams, seeping into his body like some malevolent plague.

“Scrap!” The attacker hissed, and Tarantulas could only watched with static-flickering vision as the mech glowered down at him, as if thinking of what to do next.

He didn’t have to wait long for the mech to make a decision, since the mech’s fist coming at him once more was the last thing he saw.

Then black.

 

**TBC**


	4. Missing Time

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He's missing a day...
> 
> And Blackarachnia is as puzzling to him as ever.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There aren't enough hours in the day...and I think I live at work now...
> 
> Hope you enjoy this SUPER long overdue chapter.

The stale facility was about as exciting as it always was, and Tarantulas could feel his frame tensing just from looking at it.

Dull colors, cubicles, and annoying co-workers.

He was not in the mood for this today...

After the scuffle the night before, his processor was rattled and anxious but his frame was just plain exhausted. Not sore, oddly. His internal repair was apparently functioning at an all time high as well, because his arm was flawless. No signs of the injury from the night before, and while alarming, he was thankful for a lessened workload.

Tarantulas was barely in the building when he was grabbed by the chest kibble and yanked into his superior's office.

"Exactly WHAT kind of operation do you think I run here, Tarantulas?" Drilltop snapped.

The purple mech stared back at him, far beyond confusion. "Excuse me?"

The minibot scoffed. "I expected better of you. So meticulous and yet you can't even call to give us a heads up that you won't be showing up."

"Drilltop, are you malfunctioning?" The scientist was at a total loss of words. He had no idea what the mech was going on about. "I was in the lab studying that liquid you assigned to me. There was a power outage...?"

"And you ask me if I'M malfunctioning. Check your chronometer." The minibot was glaring at him, and if looks could kill Tarantulas was sure he'd be in the scrap pile.

He humored the smaller mech though.

And froze.

"Where were you yesterday? Decided to take a personal day? Hook up with someone?"

Blank.

A whole day missing from his memory banks. Completely wiped.

His internal alarm for recharge was set, so he hadn't been in recharge the entire time... He'd even woken up in his apartment...

"Well, Tarantulas?"

"It won't happen again. I'll be in the lab." Tarantulas all but high-tailed it out of the office, earning a few questioning looks for his brisk pace on the way to his lab. Once inside, he collapsed at his desk, fishing out his data pad.

There were his notes detailing his finds. Then a giant black space of a day.

Nothing.

Checking his computer, he found no access records, no activity whatsoever from within his lab.

It was like he didn't exist for a day.

How could he have missed an entire day of his life? What had he done that he couldn't remember?

Tarantulas sighed in defeat and decided he might need to confide his dilemma in a comrade. Perhaps Blackarachnia could give him answer.

 _'Overworking yourself can cause nerd-bots like you to have memory gaps.'_ He could just hear her say something like that. Really, that was what he needed to hear; A clear, ridiculously simple and obvious explanation that he was just too tired to think of himself.

That's not what he got when Blackarachnia answered though.

" _Back for more already, hm_?"

Yet again, Tarantulas was dumbstruck. "What?"

" _I didn't expect you to be that insatiable, Nerd-Bot. Then again, I didn't expect you to be that dominant_ _either. You may be a pain in the aft, but authority suits you._.." Her tone was flirty, and Tarantulas was very confused.

"What are you talking about, femme?" He demanded, still exhausted and entirely too confused at this point to play the engineer's games.

" _I know you're shy Tarantulas, but come on, you don't have to play coy. We both enjoyed last night."_

"I'm not shy." Sadly, he couldn't come up with anything better to respond with. This was all too bizarre.

" _And I've got eight legs._ " She loved saying that... " _So what, are we having a repeat performance or what? I've got time before work..._ "

"I... Was just going to tell you that you were right about the energon." Tarantulas improvised. Was she really suggesting they interface?! _Again_ apparently?! She had that...GoldBolt. LightningDuck. Whatever his designation was.

" _You told me already. I know you like foreplay but come on, Tarantulas, get a little creative."_

His processor was swimming, and his helm was beginning to ache. He was so confused. He was missing an entire day, and apparently he was completely conscious during it.

"Something came up. Work. Maybe...next time." He spit out quickly, feeling too anxious. He wasn't used to conversations with the prickly femme going to such awkward territory. He had no idea what to say to her. What had they even really done?

Before Blackarachnia could answer he cut the line, rubbing his helm and trying to get his whits about him.

A low beeping sound turned his attention to a data pad on his desk, one he hadn't noticed when he sat down. It wasn't a usual style for him, not very good for notes or archiving. More like a sparkling's diary. He picked it up and brought up the alert.

A message.

To him.

Tarantulas observed the device for a long moment before he finally decided to look at the text. The author was unknown, so he'd need to test it later.

The only file saved on the pad was a profile, with a little note attached. The file detailed almost everything about a criminal mech, and a picture attached to the file showed exactly who he was looking at.

He brought up the note and gawked.

'Your attempted thief. Enjoy."

As if things couldn't get any more confusing, here was an entire profile on his attacker. He had no idea where it came from or who put it there, but here it was.

"Ravage"

 

TBC


End file.
